Chapter 32
After making love, Evangeline lay in Bran’s embrace. He made everything right, thankfully. Still, she needed to pay her father a visit in his head.
“Don’t follow me into dreams,” Evangeline whispered to Bran.
“Why not?” he murmured.
“I plan to visit my father and give him nightmares he’ll never forget.”
“His memories that bad?”
Nodding, she blinked back tears. “He deserves hell for what he put Genevieve through, for what he wanted from me, for watching my mother die. All because she refused to give him what he wanted.”
“You won’t scare me away.” He wiped away the tear.
“I won’t be able to go as far if you’re there. I’ll be too worried about what you’ll think of me.”
“Come to my dream after you finish, then.”
“Promise.”
He kissed her then, soft, gentle, and pulled her into his embrace where she fell asleep quickly.
She opened her eyes and found herself in her father’s study. He had journals lined up in his bookcase detailing all manner of magical objects and what to use them for. Things he craved.
Father was drooling over something in one of the journals. Fading out of sight, still unnoticed, she summoned the image of Zariha.
He rose up as a blob and formed a man. He jumped onto the desk, finally stealing her father’s attention.
Father looked up and froze. “I’ve already fed you the girl. I’m searching for my daughters. What more do you want?”
Zariha crouched on the desk and made eye contact. “Your soul!”
Shadows bled out of Zariha, stretching out, covering the desk, the floor, the walls and everything in the room. Images glimmered in the shadows.
Father stared at one patch of wall where people writhed in pain as demons tore at their bodies. A scream echoed in the room.
With the direction of the dream set, Evangeline took her leave and made her way into Bran’s.
* * * *
Nate bolted upright from a deep sleep. Panting, he tried to figure out what the hell he’d just seen in Evangeline’s dream. Maybe he shouldn’t have been checking up on her, but he couldn’t help himself.
He worried about her and Bran. Especially with the way that shadow thing had tried to claim Bran. Was that what they were fighting?
Savon rolled over, pulling him back down. “What is it, babe?”
His brain finally started processing. He remembered that creature. His father used to have nightmares about it. He’d been tied to it in some way, shape or form, and Nate couldn’t figure out how or why because the memories weren’t coming through clearly.
Damn it, did that thing really steal your soul and lock you in hell? That’s what it seemed like from the shadows on the walls. Then again, he’d seen Evangeline twist dreams for bigger effect.
“We need to help Evangeline and Bran, regardless of what they say.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re both beyond stubborn and won’t take a helping hand unless they really think they need to, and I’m willing to bet neither is ready to admit it. Besides, I believe you need to do something to destroy Zariha.”
“Zariha?” she asked with a yawn.
“Yeah, I think so. Pretty sure a sorceress needs to push him into another realm. And I’m not letting you go by yourself.”
Her brow pinched, and he knew she was getting ready to argue.
He rolled his eyes. “Not because you can’t deal with him on your own, but I want to be there if anything happens. Besides, Bran and Evangeline are my friends too. I’m not letting you do it on your own because I’d worry too damned much, no matter what.”
She nodded, sliding her thigh over his. “All right, but if we’re up, I need you again.”
He chuckled and rolled her to her back. “Need you too.” She could replace the images in her head with something better.
* * * *
Bran sat down next to Evangeline on the window seat. “What are you plotting? And you better not be thinking about ditching me to take care of whatever it is.”
She laughed softly. “No. Not ditching you. We need to go to my father’s house. See if there’s anything we can find there. I hate that place, but I need to see those books.”
“All right, but I’m coming with you.”
“Like I’d argue.” She rolled her eyes. “And didn’t you hear me say we?”
A chuckle escaped. “Had to make sure.”
A smile lifted her mouth. “Yeah. I don’t really want to be alone there. So hang on, and let’s see if I can get us to New York. That’s much farther than just to Seattle.”
He frowned. “Could this be dangerous?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I know the place quite well.” At least she hoped she did. She hadn’t explored the attic in ages, but she had to give it a try.
Closing her eyes, she grabbed onto Bran and took them to the attic.
She let out a breath and smiled. “See, no big deal.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Guess you don’t have a limit to how far you can go.”
“Guess not.” She slowly spun, taking in the attic. And there was nothing but boxes, boxes, and more damned boxes lined up. But she knew that trick. Most likely, an illusion.
“How the hell are we supposed to find anything?” Bran asked.
“Hang on. I have an idea.” She held out her hands and whispered the spell to strip the enchantment. The image of boxes dissolved, leaving shelves, trunks, and chests along the walls. She went to the shelves with her mother’s old tomes.
She looked through a few that were labeled Maternal Bloodline. And sure enough, her mother could trace her blood back all the way to Merova.
Turning around, she found Bran staring at a display stand that held an ax. She almost told him to stop, but he wasn’t even touching the thing. Then he moved so fast it was just a blur as he grabbed the handle.
Bran grunted, then howled in pain as a light flashed, blinding Evangeline.
* * * *
While Evangeline examined the books, Bran took stock of the various artifacts all over the attic. Okay, maybe not a ton, but more than he’d ever seen in one place.
Ha, one, that was it. The Wolfssengen Pendant. And everything Olivier had collected looked far more mystical than that carved piece of wood in the shape of a wolf.
Then he found the battle-ax. The blade hummed with power. The metal was forged out of black metal he didn’t recognize, with ancient symbols etched into the metal.
As he moved closer, the etching glowed green. Malachite. Someone had embedded malachite into the metal, or maybe it was part of the blade.
The leather wrapped haft called to him. Yours. Take my handle.
Shaking his head, he glanced at Evangeline. The book held her attention.
Wrap your hand around the haft.
Bran’s gaze swept back to the battle-ax. He told himself not to touch it, but he couldn’t help it. Wrapping his fingers around the haft sent a wave of power through him.
His name sang through the metal, Bran Roantree, I’m yours.
The power knocked him back with a blinding light. He fell on his ass as the battle-ax disappeared. Pain burst across his thigh, hip, and part of his side. He couldn’t pull a breath.
Fuck, it burns! Is my skin melting?
No smoke, no burning stench. No heat anywhere else.
What the hell?
The pain only got worse as his body convulsed on the floor in the dark.
“Bran, Jesus, Bran, you okay?” Evangeline shouted over the pained sounds he made.
Something slammed down beside him, then her hands were on his face and chest.
“Bran, talk to me, you’re scaring the hell out of me.”
“Burning. On fire. Fuck,” he stammered, panting between each word.
“It’s okay, I got you. No fire, but uh…shit.”
“What? What is it?”
She gulped. “I think you have a weapon too. But I don’t have a damned clue what it is or what it does.”
“Fucking burns,” he cried out.
“Where?” she asked.
“Here.” He placed his hand on his thigh.
Her hands moved to the area, and she chanted words he didn’t understand. The pain eased, then she opened his pants and yanked, He did his best to lift his ass up so she could get them down his hips, but his muscles weren’t cooperating.
Then her cool hands covered the worst of the agony. All the pain melted away. Lying there, breathing harshly, he tried to relax, but his bones hummed, and his skin seemed to buzz.
“What the fuck happened?” he muttered.
Her fingers trailed over his thigh.
“Never seen this before. My father never mentioned it. I have no clue what it’s supposed to be, but I’m hoping Tremaine might. Or maybe his friends.”
Bran nodded as color came back in blobs, forming vague shapes. Slowly objects reformed as his body calmed down.
She continued to trace the battle-ax, her fingertips dancing over his skin. Her touch felt so damned good he forgot all about the pain as his stupid cock got hard.
He found her angelic face and a smile flashed across his face. “God, you’re beautiful, Eva.”
She laughed softly. “I like it when you call me that.”
“Eva?”
She dipped her head. “Never sounded right when anyone else used Eva.”
“Eva, I love you.”
She closed her eyes and cocked her head. Then she relaxed. “You okay? Still hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not in the slightest, but you’re turning me on like nobody’s business.”
“No one is here. I could help you with that before we contact Tremaine.”
He nodded, his breath coming faster. She climbed over his thighs and pulled his boxer briefs down before taking him in.
“Goddamned, you’re wet.”
She laughed softly. “You’ve had that effect on me for years.”
She rocked over him, her hands landing on his pecs as she glided up and down his length. He gripped her thighs, letting her take the lead and keep all control. His muscles still weren’t right, but the tension flowed away as he fell into her rhythm.
Then her walls started to contract and release, milking him into climax so strong that stars flashed through his vision.
He pulled her down, locking his mouth to hers as he rolled to their side.
“We shouldn’t stay here, should we?” he whispered.
“No, but let me see if I can find something to tell me what claimed you.”
He nodded, still trying to catch his breath as she stood, her dress falling back into place. Unfortunately, she turned back to the stand, searching for something.
“Here.” She grabbed a small journal and picked up three thick leather-bound books she found before. “Come here.”
He managed to climb to his feet and pulled his clothes back on. Then she touched his arm. A split second later they were in his living room. She dropped the books and grabbed her phone.
* * * *
Evangeline didn’t know what to think about that battle-ax. She was almost afraid to look at the journal, but she called Tremaine who answered after a couple rings.
“Hey, I was going to call you shortly.”
“Well, um...I found some stuff in my father’s house that might give us a clue about some of the artifacts he was after. And Bran seems to have acquired a battle-ax. Not sure what it is, but I have something that should explain it.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Hang on.” Sitting down, she grabbed the journal. “The cover says Endringsblad.” Whatever the man who killed her mother wanted. What was it?
“Seriously?”
“Uh…that’s what it says,” Evangeline answered.
Bran cocked his head, his brow pinching.
Tremaine cleared his throat. “Give me half an hour, and we’ll be at Bran’s.”
“You’re not going to tell me if that’s good or bad?”
“It’s something like your dagger, but I need some more information before I share. And if it’s what I think it is, it chooses its wielder. It’s not gifted. It chooses the right person. Shit.”
“That’s bad?”
He blew out a breath. “No, but it’s got some wonky properties from what I read. Let me talk to Ceridwen. Maybe she’ll come with me, possibly Draecyn too, because things have gotten really strange.”
“Right, okay. See you soon.”